Help You
by crowley-king-of-the-trunk
Summary: "You can dream it went a different way Close your eyes and fly the lie away Rewrite the ending of the play Take a shot and plot your heart away I could be the canvas and the clay If you let me through Just stick around for just another day And help me help you" - Help You by Louden Swain


**A/N: I don't own ****_Supernatural_**** or the character Crowley.**

The boys were out for the night at a bar, celebrating their latest hunt. You had declined their offer to join them, you thought that this was the best time to finish up the book you were reading. You turned off all the lights in the room except the one next to your bed. You grabbed your book from your bag and made a running jump for your bed. You laid on your stomach, biting your lower lip with excitement. You searched for the page you last left off with. As so as you began to read you heard a sigh come from beside you. You tried to ignore it, thinking it must have been in your head. You turned the page, reading more words you felt the bed next to you sink as you slid towards a body that was now sitting next to you. You turned your head to look at this figure,

"Crowley!" You gasped out. His head was tilted down as he looked at the floor. you placed your book face down on the bed. Pushing yourself off the bed and to your knees you rested your hand on his shoulder.

"What's wrong? Are you alright." You tried to turn his head so you could make eye contact with him, but the room was so dark you couldn't see anything. You stood from the bed to find the light switch and just as you were about to flick it on a hand grabbed your wrist.

"Don't, please." He begged you.

"What's wrong, Crowley? Why don't you want me to turn on the lights?" You relaxed in his grip and he pulled his hand away. You made a quick movement for the light, flipping them on, you turned around to look at him. His face was badly beaten and he was bleeding from his brow and lip.

"Oh, Crowley." You sighed, wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into.

"Who did this to you?" You gently moved your hand to his cheek so you could see his wounds better. He winced at your touch, but something was off, 'Why wasn't he healing?' He used to always get a beating but heal up moments later.

"Crowley? Why aren't you healing yourself? What's going on? Please, tell me." You begged him your hand still on his cheek and the other now gripping his shoulder. He looked at you with saddened eyes.

"I don't know what happened. Everything was going fine and then they turned on me." Crowley gripped your wrists and held them to his chest as he rested his forehead to yours.

"Who turned on you? Crowley, what happened?" You lead him to the bed and turned to go get a clothe from the bathroom. You soaked the clothe and returned to Crowley's side.

"I was gathering followers to fight against Abbadon when five of them ran for me with angel blades." Crowley winced as you ran the clothe over his brow, trying to remove the blood.

"The rest of the demons were able to fight them off long enough for me to escape." Crowley's voice began to lower with shame.

"I should have seen this coming." You stopped wiping his face. He then made eye contact with you.

"Don't you dare beat yourself up for something you can't control." His voice was stern. Crowley just continued to look into your eyes. You returned the clothe to his face, silence came over the room for a few minutes. You had finished wiping down his face. A small cut appeared along his brow and on his lower lip.

"Alright." You glared at him. He saw your look and furrowed his brow.

"What?" He jerked his head back.

"I know that's not all that they inflicted on you. Where else do I need to fix up." You felt like a mother in that moment, proud but upset that he got into trouble. Crowley sheepishly looked away as he attempted to pull off his jacket. He grit his teeth as you helped him slid the jacket off his arms. You unraveled his tie, pulling it from his collar. You began to unbutton his shirt, but the further you unbuttoned it the more bruises were visible.

"Oh, Crowley." You nearly cried, seeing him in such a bad condition.

"It looks like they took a baseball bat to your side." You were digusted by the amount of discoloration in his skin. Crowley's hand found your cheek, you couldn't help but lean into his touch. You closed your eyes, you were so upset at these bastards for beating him up.

"I won't let this happen again. I can't bare to see you this way." You promised.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I'll heal." Crowley tried to reassure you. He gently brought another hand to the other side of your face.

"But you're not healing. Something is very wrong, Crowley." You opened your eyes as a tear ran down your cheek. He gently wiped it away with his thumb. He was so sweet, so gentle, kind to the touch. You have never seen a gentle side of him before. He had a sense of feeling and emotions, he was almost human to you. Your eyes widened, 'Human! Oh my God,' you gripped his wrists and pulled them off your face.

"What?" Crowley was confused at your actions.

"I know why you're not healing. Sam, he started the cure, but never finished it." You were anxious, You knew what the problem was and now we could maybe fix it.

"And?" Crowley still confused, not exactly sure where you were going.

"That blood, his blood is still in you. It's like an infection it's just going to keep growing until…maybe you become human." Crowley realized where you were now. His face went blank, he was lost in thought. You remember Dean saying something about Crowley sneaking blood.

"Wait? Are you addicted to blood? Human blood?" His eyes quickly met yours.

"How…how'd you know about that?"

"It doesn't matter. Is it true?" Crowley didn't answer you, he just let his head fall as he looked at the floor. You leaned behind him and grabbed the knife under your pillow. You unsheathed the knife and ran it across your forearm.

"What are you doing!?" Crowley raised his voice, but didn't quite yell.

"Here," you stretched your arm out to him, "you're weak, you need this." The blood was falling from your arm and dripping on the bed. He shook his head at your offer.

"If you don't…I'll just let myself bleed to death." You were worried for him and right now this is the best you can do. He glared at you for your comment, "Then take it." You were adamant for him to drink your blood. With a sigh he pulled your arm to his mouth and gently pressed his lips to a your skin. As he drank from your arm he would run his tongue across the wound. You rest your head to his and closed your eyes, you trusted him with your life. You didn't care what he did to you just as long as he was there for you when you needed him. Moments later he lifted his head and wiped the remaining blood off his lips. His strength came back as you watched his bruises and cuts slowly disappear.

"Do you feel better?" You smiled at him. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and tied it around your wound. He then proceeded to button up his shirt. He laid a sweet kiss on your lips then stood from the bed and grabbed his tie.

"Thank you, darling." He ran his hand down your jaw. He grabbed his coat, shrugged it on to his shoulders. You reached out your hand and grabbed his, he looked down at you and kissed you on the forehead.

"Just remember you need to help me, so I can help you." Your words were sincere. He smirked at you then disappeared.


End file.
